…ambiguous
dreams, uncertain destinies, unbeknownst to souls: this fluent current, steady
upon scars, graphed, forbidden, trespassing blueprints: a field of typewriters,
a cave of envelopes, pacing unfamiliar terrain: heart-spoken or heart-driven,
heart-scores of diamonds, at some type of terrific: our aching minds, studying
existence, something requiring faith: such library silence, wishing upon
fruition, remodeling our hourglass: so captive, filmed by invisibility, so many
ashes: moving slowly, a witness to realities, reknit, reformed, bodied in
faith: our reviewed sluggishness, or pushing despite workings, at depression
transformed into anger: if but to ignite, this wellish incentive, negotiating
with mental illusion: at seas surfing, at deserts skiing, so enveloped in
partial realities: our serious selves, searching interior sources, while fed
indiscrimination: running with silence, realized as silence, or sensed as
churning silence: this palm of regeneration, or a reluctant stream, removed or
placed in mirrors: so gentle our struggle, so inquisitive our souls, while
listening to dial tones: our binocular phones, our salvaged identities, so
late, so concerned, so captivating…. …such
earth water, such muddy reflection, such tyranny and ship-motion: this rocky island, this simmering volcano, or
sensing something dynamic: our interior Christ, our locomotive Ghost, at
channels dislodged into atmosphere: such deep movement, such crystallized
ceilings, unraveled, rewrapped, soaring with powers: at something devastating,
or something evolutionary, rereading sacred texts: to have lost a soul, this
scholar of dreams, leaving behind family embedded with friends: our first
feeling, our trying tributes, pulling into something extra-ordinary: this
purgatorial chase, this purgatorial mountain, our purgatorial cries: if but to
relive, if but less sadness, while life retypes our destinies: at wars with
minds, at mirrors re-sung, if but one last victory: at sacred beginnings, at sacred
sacrifices, or so invested it becomes difficult to vanish: our aches singing,
our regrets plural, our arts capturing silence….
…such
nonchalance, about something precious, to live taking so much for leisure: our
habits, furious with fever, while nothing is promised: our dreams, muffled by
screams, our delicate islands: as faced with mortality, spun for chiseled,
where remotes seem to activate incentive: our scholarly immortality, our
devoted children, session’d in this desolate valley: our wrung eyes, our flung
realities, our favorite memories: searching for apparitions, if but one last
hug, if but one last argument: such debated lives, our coffee with sentiments,
our hearts filled with resonance: those fond feelings, those privy thoughts, or
membrance to palm such vulnerability: our running waters, our souls at advice,
or so enlove with God we appear redeemed: this heavy reality, this sense in
souls, our bodies revved with survival: our Kingdom Hearts, at play at Jordan,
or so charged by theological belief….
…we
celebrate life, struggling with despair, finding meaning in ambiguity: our
hopping hearts, our hopeful souls, revved by something incredible: to watch our
habits, to renew our philosophies, to sing, dance, or chance our deeper selves:
this paved foundation, this apocalyptic controversy, where religiosity is faced
by perception: our first books, out last book, our works left in momentum: if
but to live faith, if but to reminisce in purity, if but to release our anger:
our laughing aches, those trenchant good times, but faced with something
missing: that large smile, that cheerful disposition, or those radiant charms:
sensing presence, rejoicing with mercy, growing accustomed to something tragic:
while life nudges, or insistence nudges, while replaying interior movies….
